Disclaimer: All rights belong to J.K. Rowling, author of the Harry Potter series, and Rick Riordan, author of the Percy Jackson series.

Warnings: OOC-ness, sexual content between males

Note: Written for the Lottery Comp: 2 Thestral/ 29 Family/ 37 Festive/ 42 "I hate Christmas" / 48 "The weather is grim"; Disney Character Comp: Hercules; 5, 10, 20, 50, 70, 100 Fandoms Challenge; "As Many As You Want" Comp: first, smut, bedroom, incredibly close

My Hummingbird

Harry stood, stroking the tight, leathery skin of the skeletal creature who allowed the gentle petting. It was cold, as was customary in the wintertime. Visible puffs of air escaped his mouth as he sighed deeply. Loneliness invaded every crack in his being, and the desolate silence only increased the poor forsaken teen.

"Sorry! I didn't see you there!"

Harry glanced at the hand, tracking it back to an older curly-haired, bright-eyed boy, face contorted into an apologetic look.

"No, it's fine. It was my fault," Harry said, taking the outstretched hand.

He had declined Ron's offer to spend the holidays at the Weasley household, choosing to stay at Hogwarts. Hermione took the train ride back to King's Cross, extending an invitation to him as well to meet her parents, but Harry gave her the same answer.

"Harry, I need you to be honest with me," said teen froze, heart beating fast. "Do you like me?"

A tell-tale blush was his answer. And it was all that he needed.

"Good, because I like you, too."

Despite its festive decorations, Hogwarts lacked its wonder without the packed, rowdy students, too quiet and empty. It was disconcerting to him. But Harry didn't want to be alone. Sure, he felt isolated now, but at the Burrow, he would have experienced something similar. While not physically alone, Harry would feel lonely in his state of mind, divided, an outcast in the happy family. Cedric was dead, it's a complete wonder how Harry survived this far, this long. It should have been him.

Harry's face was flushed a deep red as he stuttered, arms waving about as he tried to explain himself.

"You have a beautiful voice, Harry. Sing to me?"

Harry gaped for a few seconds, disbelieving, before he shook his head and gave in.

He tugged his cloak tighter around him, belatedly realizing that he should have cast on warming charms yet not making any move to grab his wand. The cold made him feel real, alive. It was the better choice to remain at Hogwarts. At least here, he didn't have to pretend he was happy. A persona wasn't needed if there wasn't anyone around.

"I love you, my beautiful hummingbird."

Soft crunching filled his ears. Harry stayed in his still position, staring at the sky, hand resting absently on the snorting Thestral.

"The weather is grim," the person said, stopping at his side. A male, judging by the deeper voice.

"Yeah," Harry replied, voice slightly breathy. The sky painted an ongoing gray slate, a dull, dull color, the sun nowhere to be found. He tore his eyes away from the sky to look at his new companion. It was an older male, not a student, that much was obvious, not to say that he looked old, probably in his early thirties. His face was framed by black hair that fell in slight curls, blue eyes sparkling mischievously. The muggle suit he donned on did nothing to hide his muscular frame. There was something in his grin that reminded him greatly of the Weasley twins. Harry could tell he was a prankster right off the bat, making him a bit weary of his intentions. But he was a handsome man, retaining his boyish good lucks from his youth, and Harry suddenly found himself grateful for the stinging cold, face already red and hiding his appreciative blush from the once-over.

"Hello," Harry breathed out, finding it difficult to speak when the man shot him a sly smile.

"What's a fair beauty like you doing out here in the cold all alone?" the stranger stepped closer, decreasing the already little space separating them. He brought his hand up, fingers ghosting under Harry's chin, making him tip his head by to stare into his eyes. Harry sucked in his breath sharply. Clear, beautiful blue met his own. It was as if the summer sky was imprinted in those irises, and he couldn't bring himself to look away.

The corners of his lips perked up. "Did I take your breath away?"

Harry grew flustered, tearing himself from the stranger's grip only to have his hips held in place, blushing even harder at the intimate contact.

"You still didn't answer my question," he reminded the teen, stating it casually as if he wasn't close enough to share the same air as him.

"I just, I hate Christmas, so I don't really want to spend it in the castle," Harry said, shifting slightly in discomfort. The intimate touches seemed to burn through his clothes, inflaming desire in the small teen, fanning the already present attraction he felt toward the man. It was ridiculous how fast he developed this lust, but teenage hormones were a wonder, and Harry cursed them infinitely for causing his body's reaction.

"Really?" the stranger hummed. "Then I'll just have to show you the brighter side of Christmas."

He leaned in closer, pressing his forehead against Harry's and shooting him a smile. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach, eyes dropping down to those thin, pink lips. Harry swallowed his suddenly dry throat. Oh, boy…

Harry writhed under those talented hands exploring his body wondrously, skillfully, playing him like an instrument, drawing moans and desperate whines from him. There was guilt, so much guilt. But there had been so much pain in his heart, rivaling the physical, no, surpassing the pain that even Voldemort had caused. It hurt, but Evan, he made the pain bearable, at least for now. He made him forget.

His breath hitched when he felt fingers prod at his entrance. Gripping the sheets tightly in one fist and holding on tightly to Evan's shoulder with the next, Harry shut his eyes, biting his bottom lip. He had never went this far with another before, and a part of him was shocked he allowed this night to escalate to this point, but he didn't want to go back.

Too much heat, it was too hot. Harry panted softly, skin gleaning with a coat of sweat. Each movement the two made was slick and wet. A tongue lapped at his collarbone, teeth scraping over the sensitive skin sensually. Harry lolled his head to the side, eyes glazed with pleasure, crying out when a hand started pumping his hardened length. A finger dipped into his hole, preparing him of what was to come. Harry didn't notice, too lost in the throes of lust. When a second finger was added, he felt a sharp sting, but Evan was an attentive lover and did his best to distract him from the pain. By the time the third finger was in, Harry had his legs spread almost obscenely wide, letting his moans escape him with no holding back, arms circled around Evan's neck.

"Please, please," Harry didn't even know he was whispering that phrase over and over until Hermes licked a trail up to a spot behind his ear that made his toes curl as he voiced his consent. He wrapped his legs around his waist, thrusting his hips up eagerly.

When a hardness pressed itself against his entrance, not yet entering, Harry hesitated briefly before nodding, rocking himself back against it.

He almost regretted it when not a second later and it felt like he was being torn open. Why did people like this so much? Tears collected at the corners of his eyes as Harry tried to muffle the sounds of his discomfort in Evan's shoulders, nails raking along the muscular back. But Evan waited patiently, which was probably difficult for him, Harry knew, feeling the tense body above him as if he was barely restraining himself back. And pleasure soon overtook him. It was passionate, wild, explosive. When Harry started succumbing to it, Evan no longer held back, going as hard and as fast as he could, the bed creaking loudly with the force.

"My name."

Harry blearily opened his eyes. What?

"My name, say my name."

"Evan!" Harry moaned, tossing his head back.

"No, Hermes. Call me Hermes."

Harry was too lost to question this strange request, and so he obliged. With a cry, Harry saw stars, twitching when Hermes continued to assault his already sensitive body, and soon, he shuddered when warmth filled him from below. As Hermes pulled out, the still warm cum dripped out erotically, but Harry was too tired to care. A warm body collapsed next to him, dragging Harry over, laying his head on that toned chest. When Harry felt the beginnings of sleep edging into his mind, he heard a soft whisper that had his eyes snapping open.

"Goodnight, my beautiful hummingbird."

Evan means "good messenger" in Greek and a hummingbird symbolizes messengers as well, just being a nerd as I try to correlate it all back to Hermes, the messenger god. It's only a coincidence that Evans is Lily's last name. I hope I made it obvious what just happened. - Aldira~